


the light, shining

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [212]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, Goddesses, Magic-Users, Princes & Princesses, Religious Conflict, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since their hands first touched, fingertip to fingertip, Fiali has known the way it would end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: the light, shining  
> Original, femslash,  
> Character death, PG  
> Wordcount: 635  
> Prompt: any, any: "This isn't some fairytale. When I kiss you, you don't wake up from a deep sleep and live happily ever after." "When you kiss me, I wanna die."

_I’m sorry_ , Fiali screams, tucked down behind the crumbling wall, arms wrapped around herself. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry_. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she gasps for air, trying to breathe through the tears. 

She should have known. 

_It’s not your fault_ , Oriande sends, her mind-voice as worn as her real one would be, could Fiali hear it. She wants to hear it. _Please, live_ , Oriande begs. _That’s all I want for you_. 

Before she can reply, Oriande cuts the connection. Fiali knows what that means and the tears come faster, harder, so much that she thinks she might wash away – she wants to wash away. 

She _should have known_. No princess could ever be with a peasant, but Oriande tried. Fiali should have left, should never have crept into that dance. 

They are looking for her, the king’s soldiers. The priests will purify her as they did Oriande, and then she will be a lesson for the realm. 

Oriande submitted but begged Fiali to run, to hide, to _live_. 

“I love you,” Oriande confessed at their last meeting, before the Crown Prince, her eldest brother, found them. “When you touch me, it feels like flying.” 

Fiali should have told her then, but Tiandre opened the door to the least-used library and stared at them, at Fiali in Oriande’s lap, both their dresses untied, and then – 

Oriande stayed, but Fiali ran. 

Since their hands first touched, fingertip to fingertip, Fiali has known. And now… 

Now. 

Her head rests against crumbling stone. Her heart is bleeding. She is a peasant’s daughter, good only for tending crops and cattle. Her place in the king’s religion is plainly made and harshly kept. 

The king’s only daughter is dead now, burnt on a pyre for her crimes, purified as their god commands. 

Not Fiali’s god. 

_How can I hear you?_ Oriande had asked, the second time Fiali found her. _What magic is this?_ She did not sound horrified or afraid. She was enthralled and Fiali let her in, let her explore every part. Oriande had thought it a marvelous game and not fully understood, but Fiali had been in such denial, sure they had time… 

Fiali’s mother taught her the old gods’ names and asked her to promise to keep it secret, to pass on to her own daughters, should she have them, and to her nieces if she did not. “We are the daughters of the old ones,” she had said. _We are blessed and cursed, Fiali. Know that. Know it and take care._

Oriande is dead for her crime of loving not only a peasant but a woman. Fiali – could have saved her. But Oriande had told her, as she ran, _I broke their laws. Go and be free; I will take their punishment_. 

There is ancient law. Fiali had been content until she saw the princess, dancing with a noble and laughing, starlight in her hair. Even then, she could have backed away, returned to her father’s house – but the princess saw her.

Saw her and _smiled_. 

There is ancient law. As the daughter of the old magick, Fiali’s duty is clear. 

They are looking for her. Her tears have dried and she stands, turning to watch the rising sun. 

She had known from the beginning how this would end and the ancient law is clear: “When they burn what is yours,” Fialana, Mother of Light, had decreed, long before the king’s god came to their shore, “burn what is theirs.”

Once, while her brothers were in the field and Fiali had to care for their mother, mere days before Ma finally let go, she asked, “Why did you name me for Vengeance?” 

Ma had smiled and patted her hand. _You will know why, little light. You will know._

The sun bathes her and she knows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: any, any, a prophet is not honored in his/her own land

_200 years ago_

 

The conquerors’ god is a jealous god, that Master who demands blood and flame. They offer the Mother of Light’s priestesses one chance: renounce Fialana or die on the pyre. 

Many renounce, though it is a lie. They keep the secrets and hand them down, mother to daughter, aunt to niece, for generations. 

The High Priestess, Fialana given flesh, is not offered the choice. Had it been, she would have laughed. 

They put her on the pyre, the conquerors from the east, and they believe their god will honor them for it. Their Master will allow no other gods in his lands. 

The High Priestess, she who turned from her mother-given name to embrace Fialana, watches them gather, her people and the conquerors. So many tears; so many jeers. She is unafraid. Fialana is amongst the crowd, clothed in starlight and flame -- _When they burn what is yours_ , the Mother of Light murmurs to her High Priestess, _burn what is theirs._

The High Priestess smiles as the conquering king lights the pyre, defeating the last of the old gods in this wealthy, resource-rich land. And the High Priestess shouts as the smoke rises, sending the words to the minds of all those who still know and follow the old ways, _There will be one, Mother of Light made flesh again, to burn out those who would burn us, and she will be named for Vengeance_. 

“Come home, Daughter,” the Mother of Light calls, and the High Priestess goes.


End file.
